A flash of lightning cracks, breaking through the clouds in the dreary night. The thunder booms as sheets of rain come crashing down. The trees bend under the restless wind.
Draco has already been up for hours, waiting for the stars to fade and give way to dawn.
He leans his head against the windowsill, gazing out into the pitch black, searching for shadows that ceased to exist. Sleep has been a stranger to him for years, a bittersweet memory of a lover lost.
More often than not, his dreams are a landscape of red, paralysing him. Screams of friends and foes—visions of the reason accompanied them. Even when they weren't a construct of horrific details, they left a trail of unease and fear.
Tonight, the rain made it impossible to manage even the slightest shadow of slumber. A good night's sleep is a vague concept that eludes him on most days, and tonight he has simply resigned himself to sit back and watch the universe cry.
He fights a wince as the whining wind picks up, the echo reminiscent of those cramped months in his small cell. Sometimes, Draco wonders if he will wake up only to find himself on that rickety cot, with a threadbare blanket his only companion.
In the beginning, when things were just turning for the worse, Draco used to use potions to help. The sweet bliss of a Dreamless Sleep was euphoric. It allowed him to pretend things were okay. It kept him sane as his task consumed his waking moments.
One dose turned into two as more Death Eaters made the Manor their home.
He had always been a dab hand at potions and made the brew last longer, be better. The weightlessness started to linger as he waltzed through the halls, ignoring the sound of the people around him.
If Draco had mixed up a few different potions on occasions when he was tired, it never hurt anyone. He was careful--of course he was!
Draco had always been a good liar. He even managed to lie to himself. He told himself he would stop, that this was only for a few more months. Draco could stop whenever he wanted.
Ignorance is bliss.
His father pretended he didn't see the way Draco's eyes glazed over during the family dinners before seventh year. His mother pretended she didn't notice how quickly the potions lab needed to be restocked.
Draco hadn't realized the severity of his addiction even when he started tipping Pixie Dust into the concoctions--a dangerous hallucinogenic. It was Blaise of all people who kicked sense into him. Who helped him realize that blood was indeed thicker than water--but it was of the convent and not the womb.
No, he was determined never to get near Dreamless Sleep ever again. It had been so hard to stop, it had taken weeks for him to get clean. His body rejected everything as it begged him for a hit. Just a drop, just a sip. He didn't have the strength to go through that again. He didn't think he'd be able to stop.
He wouldn't do that to his family--to Mother. He wouldn't make his friends watch as he signed his own death warrant.
Another bolt of light splits the sky into two. Draco fights a shudder, gritting his teeth. The rain manages to bring out his worst memories.
There is a room filled with shelves that touch the sky. The shelves are filled with boxes under lock and key.
The room quakes as thunder booms. He takes deep breaths trying to calm himself--to fix his room.
The wind howls. The rain shows no sign of stopping.
A wooden box appears on a shelf.
Oh no, he can't--not tonight.
YOU ARE READING
And She Was Golden
Fanfiction[Dramione Fic] Their eyes meet just for a fraction of a moment, and that's all it takes. All his boxes and walls come crashing down. He's always been weak in the face of her reality- no matter how furiously he would deny it. Breathe in. Draco Malfoy...
